Shattered
by Innermost
Summary: Megaman Zero universe - A human survivor named Hildr is haunted by the aftermath of the Elf Wars. MMZ one-shot.


**Author's note**  
This one-shot has been somewhat written in the perspective of a human who had nearly died during the Elf Wars, and how she deals with the aftermath of the war. MMZ has done a decent job at world-building, Neo Arcadia and stuff. However, the humans in Neo Arcadia were left untouched IMO, so I wanted to do something about it.

This MMZ one-shot is basically related to another MMZ fic I'm working on. I haven't published that one yet though.

 **Background music inspiration  
** 'Shattered Time' by Asteria

* * *

 **SHATTERED**

Hildr Dainsleif hasn't forgotten about the world covered in the rubbles. A world that is broken, crushed into oblivion, dissipated in wafts of stygian smoke. Even the remains of her own kind, like limbs that are detached from their torsos. The ground was gruesomely dyed in crimson, their guts and bones scattered. Everywhere, she would see the remains of Reploids, scraps of metal burning and melting.

That day, her adolescent self was embraced by her lover, the one that had been alongside her for countless years. They made their promises, sworn to eachother that they wouldn't be apart. Hildr remembers how he placed his arms protectively around her, to shield her from the horrible impact: an explosion that sent pieces of buildings tumbling down. They lied underneath, and the weight proved to be painful. So excruciating and unbearable that some of her bones were crushed. Her last breath would be taken away from her. Right here, right now.

However—

She also remembers two Reploids. One in crimson, his long golden hair fluttering in the wind. Then another one in cerulean, wearing a helmet and an arm cannon that reverted back to a hand. They moved towards her. The crimson Reploid stands behind the second Reploid in cerulean, his dark eyes fixed in the opposite direction with a green saber in his black gloved hand. The helmeted cerulean Reploid had gazed down at her in concern, quickly removing the rubbles that hindered her breathing.

The cerulean Reploid crouched down. "Miss! Are you okay?"

"…my partner, is he okay?" Hildr whispered.

He frowned, somewhat troubled by her question. "I don't know, miss. Where is he?"

"He is right here... with me."

The cerulean Reploid looks around. Next to Hildr, he sees a limp hand sticking out, lifting up even more large rubbles. He sees what is lying underneath the debris, and the sight of it makes his mouth drop open in horror. Her savior is unable to form words, like they're somewhere stuck in his throat. He tears his gaze away, a troubled expression plastered on his face as if he tries to search for something within himself. But... he found nothing.

"Is he okay?" Hildr asked again.

"...I'm sorry." The cerulean Reploid said, lowering his gaze.

Hildr stares at him in puzzlement, shaking her head with disbelief. She rises to her knees, deciding to search for her lover herself when she feels something wet dripping down the back of her neck. The thing slides over her back and fell to the ground with a heavy, slimy thud. She reaches for it with her hand quivering, and then… froze. Viscera. Whom did it belong to? It could not be his…

She swivels her head around, but—

The sight was horrendous. Too painful, too gut-wrenching. His body was severed, torn in half and squashed. His skull utterly fissured, parts of his brain spilling out. They had planned to move away from the city together; to live a quiet life, somewhere in the green plains. She even wanted to bear his child. No... their child. Hildr could barely contain the tears that poured out of her eyes. Her breathing became short and uneven. The cerulean Reploid only watched with guilt. There was nothing he could do.

"X," The crimson Reploid said, bringing his companion to reality. He placed a hand on the cerulean Reploid's shoulder. "We have to move."

"Right…" The Reploid named X nodded, and reached out his hands to carry the injured woman. "Miss… it's dangerous here, let me carry you to where it's safe. The others will treat your wounds and—"

Hildr slapped his hands away. "…don't touch me." She spat with disgust, glaring into X's eyes. "You damned… machine!"

Hildr screams at the cerulean Reploid, her quivering voice filled with utter hatred and rage. She dropped her hands to the ground, her nails digging into the cracked pavement as her fingers began to bleed. She would not forgive them. The Reploids, those machines. She'd resent them for bringing her world to ruin for as long as she lives. No—

Even after death.

* * *

Her eyes had finally opened to a pair of withered hands bleeding, kneeling on the marble floor. She had been drowning in her own dreams again, no… nightmares. Reliving it over and over again for countless years in the newly formed metropolis of Neo Arcadia. Shards of a large glass vase had been cutting into her skin, and laid scattered around the kitchen. She stared down at her hands, her eyes empty and exhausted. Small drops of blood continuously dripped from her hands, but… she is unable to feel the sensation. Unable to feel anything. Nothing.

An anxious scream comes from behind. It's distant, faint and unrecognizable. She does not bother swiveling her head to identify the owner of that voice. It's meaningless. She only stares into nothingness.

A young girl stands in front of Hildr and touches her arm, enclosing it with her small hand as the child tries to pull her up. A desperate plea could be heard repeatedly from her lips. Tears then pour ceaselessly from the child's eyes. It is sadness, pain, anxiety. It is everything Hildr had once felt back then. It reminds the woman of the things she lost; the things that will never return to her. Hildr's voice begins to quake. A hellish rage burns within herself. She cannot allow herself to feel anything but pain and resentment.

Hildr shakes off the child's small hand gripping her, her mouth curling into an angry grimace. She is disgusted by the touch of another person: something she does not want to feel ever again. The withered woman slaps the little one across her cheek, hard and merciless. And then—

The child falls backwards on the floor. 


End file.
